


Relief

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: It’s a warm day and Sulu’s a problem solver.





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Pavel’s still not exactly sure _why_ he was called to Starfleet Headquarters, but like the good ensign he is, he rushed right over. His grey ground-uniform clings to his skin in the summer heat, and even the San Francisco breeze can’t seem to save him. He’s one of the few officers who’s kept his hat on, his jacket zipped all the way up. The majority of the regular crew is strewn out across the lawn, avidly waiting for their captain’s call. Their first officer’s conspicuously missing. Dr. McCoy seems to think they’re negotiating with the brass, trying to save the whole crew from a painful debriefing, but Pavel’s overheard the yeoman rumour mill spouting very different tales. 

Pavel tries to stay out of it, partially because he wants to keep his coveted position on the bridge, and partially because it’s too hot to _care_. He stands next to Hikaru under the welcome shade of the nearest building, watching Nurse Bashir trying to tempt Lieutenant Uhura into a picnic while they wait. Commander Scott’s already flat on his back, staring up at clouds with Keenser.

Hikaru elbows his side and suddenly thrusts a hand out to the left, pointing and asking, “Hey, is that an old school ice cream cart?”

Pavel has to squint through the glare of the sun, but then there’s no mistaking the colourful cart that’s wheeled out onto the pavement. The Tellarite that’s driving it is just barely tall enough to see over her sign. Pavel doesn’t wait for a follow up question—he strolls over, pace quickened at the promise of anything _cold._ He only hopes it really is cold, and not one of those crazy new _hot_ ice cream brands from the Martian colonies.

As soon as they reach the cart, a blast of cool air hits them. The old fashioned freezing units have never looked so good. The Tellarite server doesn’t smile, just frowns up at them and barks, “Waffle or grass cones?”

Hikaru mumbles, “Grass?” under his breath.

Pavel quietly fills in: “For Grazerites,” then informs the Tellarite, “Waffle, please. One scoop of...” After scanning the bizarre labels, he decides the safest flavour is: “Wanilla.”

The Tellarite grunts, “Fifteen credits,” which is an absurd price, but it’s too hot to argue. Besides, Pavel’s an _ensign_ now—an enlisted officer on the Federation’s flagship. He figures he can afford it. He taps his compliance into the PADD she hands him, then happily accepts the ice cream cone he’s given in return. 

Stepping back to let Hikaru take his place, Pavel tries his first lick. Even with such a basic flavour, the burst of natural ingredients is wondrous—after spending months living on a starship, _real_ food is always welcome. Hikaru orders up a more adventurous, “Andorian BubbleNut, please.”

“Waffle or grass?”

“Waffle.”

“Grass.”

Hikaru blinks, stares at the Tellarite for a moment, then repeats, “Waffle.”

The Tellarite counters, “Grass.”

Hikaru shoots Pavel a _look_ , but Pavel only shrugs and licks his ice cream. _He’s_ happy. And his young genius can only explain so much of the vastly variable universe.

Hikaru tries a final time, stressing, “ _Waffle_.”

The Tellarite huffs, “Out of waffle. That was the last one. Take _grass._ ”

Hikaru, ever amicable, only looks miffed. Pavel has to stifle his laughter in his treat. He imagines if he’d come over with Dr. McCoy or one of the people from security, there’d be a fight going on. The Tellarite’s typical attitude seems to be asking for one. 

But Hikaru accepts defeat, telling her, “That’s alright, thanks.”

The Tellarite snarls, “What’s wrong with grass?” Even though they all know she’d probably never eat it. No one without a Grazerite’s stomach would. Hikaru doesn’t respond to her goading, just turns to scoop Pavel up in his arm and shuffle them both back to the safety of their shade. Pavel thinks of suggesting they dip into Headquarters to synthesize a proper cone, but he knows Hikaru wouldn’t want the artificial molecules they survive on on the Enterprise. Hopeless and helpless, Hikaru just turns a considering eye to Pavel’s dessert. 

Pavel keeps licking—he’s in way too deep to offer Hikaru any. His saliva’s already all over it, and it’s too good to stop. 

Then, without warning, Hikaru ducks in and licks a stripe off the other side. Pavel splutters and jerks away, but it’s too late; Hikaru’s already sucking a large chunk of vanilla ice cream into his mouth. When he goes in for another, Pavel tries to dodge, but Hikaru, grinning like the Cheshire cat from that old Russian fairy tail, chases him. Hikaru gets another lick in before laughing, “We’re sharing that cone, Chekov.”

“Nyet,” Pavel insists, turning to block Hikaru with his back. 

Hikaru just leans over his shoulder, trying vainly to reach. Pavel cruelly takes another lick himself, and Hikaru, ever unstoppable, diverts to Pavel’s cheek, quickly lapping a stray drip away from the corner of Pavel’s lips. 

Pavel’s cheeks burn hotter than the weather. Hikaru purrs into his ear, “Your choice, Ensign—I can eat it out of your cone... or out of your mouth.”

Out on the open lawn, in front of all their peers, Pavel knows which option’s more horrifying.

And more exciting.

But he’s not quite as bold as his intrepid captain, so he begrudgingly lifts his cone up to Hikaru. Hikaru innocently licks away.

Pavel sweats for a few more minutes before giving in and joining.


End file.
